Azalia E. Martin, "Twilight" (1904)
By AZALIA EDMONIA MARTIN
THE sun in his red robe of fire
Has passed o'er the hills from our sight;
The bright golden hue of the sunset
Tells of the approach of the night,
And peeping from o'er the horizon
Bright Luna appears with her light.
A sweet song I hear in the silence,
The nightingale's song to its mate;
A song that is heard by its Maker,
'Tis heard in the twilight till late;
My soul longeth ever for music,
I linger and list at my gate.
The flowers with heads toward the westward
Are peeping to see the bright sun,
Whose glad rays have kissed them so gently
From dawn till the glad day is done;
And stars, the sentries of heaven,
Proclaim that the night has begun.
Published in Voice of the Negro, September 1904
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- Azalia E. Martin (Author Page) Amardeep Singh